The Dramatic Saga of my Dysfunctional Pregnant Uterus

The last two weeks have been stressful, eventful, & we very nearly met our sweet boy way too soon at 28 weeks. Thankfully things turned out far differently than they could have.

I was at work on a Tuesday evening 2 weeks ago trying to finish up, I had spent the day working triage on the phones, in my chair basically all day but had felt Braxton-Hicks sporadically. It was the easiest workday I've had since I started this new job. 

As I finished phoning in a prescription for a patient I suddenly felt a warm gush, I ran to the bathroom & found quite a bit of blood. I yelled at the doctor what was happening, grabbed my bag, & ran to my car. I called Chris & we frantically drove home to meet to make the trip to the hospital together. I changed my clothes & met Chris at the door when I heard his tires screech to a halt in front of the house. I hopped in the truck unprepared for what was coming & even though the drive took place during rush hour, we made it to the hospital so much faster than we could have hoped.

We walked up to Maternal Observation, announced why we were there, & were immediately transferred to Labor & Delivery. I changed, got into bed, was hooked up to a fetal monitor, given an IV, labs were drawn, and things got rolling. The monitor revealed that what I thought were Braxton-Hicks were actually legit contractions that were occuring between 6-10 minutes apart without regularity, I could feel every single one but was not in pain, I still thought that they should have been Braxton-Hicks but oh, was I wrong!

I was observed for several hours until I finally went for an ultrasound & consult with the High Risk Perinatoligist. Dr.T informed us that Brit was breech, the placenta was presenting as Marginal Placenta Previa, but most importantly that I was in Pre-term labor, he said that we were facing trying to stop labor using Magnesium. Once we got back to my room I had to ask Chris to tell me again what had just happened, I couldn't process any thing after hearing the words pre-term labor. I was immediately given an injection of betamethasone in my hip which is a steroid that stimulates the production of surfactant in the baby's lungs to help prevent respiratory distress in premature infants. Throughout this all Brit was an ornery guy, he was not enjoying the contractions & told us about it by jumping, kicking, & climbing all over the place. He was the most active I've ever felt but with a great heart rate.

My nurse was candid with us when asked what all this meant. She told us that we were possibly facing delivering our baby much sooner than expected, he would be delivered via c-section due to breech presentation, & would be be immediately taken to the NICU. She said that we would get to see him as he was whisked away, I'd go to recovery, get started on a breast pump to try to stimulate my milk production, & once I could get up-go see my son. We were both numb, this was not our plan. As a few hours passed things seemed to settle down slightly, I sent Chris home to take care of the dogs & get some sleep in case the following day was to be what was being predicted.

Around 12:30 am I began having contractions every 5 minutes, the nurse monitored me closely, put me on my left side again, & was on the verge of calling the doctor to start the magnesium. I didn't quite realize what was happen because I was so exhausted, somehow I fell asleep in the chaos. I woke up 3 hours later. As I slept my contractions had stopped completely & Brit had settled down. No intervention had been necessary. The only reason we had gone from panic to absolute calmness was that God was in control, He gave us a swift 180 degree change without any medical intervention.

It was a whole new day, I finally got to eat & drink, I was visited by the doctors who saw no reason in keeping me in L&D. Soon I was transferred to the Ante-partum unit for observation & bed-rest with bathroom privileges. I stayed in Ante-Partum for two days without any uterine-drama, they gave me my second shot of betamethasone & sent me home for more bedrest. I followed up with my doctor a few days later, had another ultrasound, & got fantastic news that the placenta previa had resolved & Brit was now turned head down. My doctor reluctantly gave me permission to return to work but only light duties with frequent breaks.

Fast foward two weeks, all has gone well at work & home, we had even started the first of six of our childbirth classes. My boss would only allow me to work the phones, I stayed off my feet would elevate them frequently.
At the begining of Tuesday morning I had a headache, then as I took a phone call I was hardly able to read the patient chart-I had bright spots clouding my vision, I asked my coworker to check my blood pressure-it was high. We rechecked a bit later, still high. As the morning progressed my headache improved slightly, as did my vision. I performed a urine dip on my urine & found no traces of protien, I notified my OB office & was told to monitor further & head to L&D if necessary. After lunch my coworker came to check my blood pressure once more & it was even higher, so I sat & tried to relax. I finally got up to send a fax in the front office & as I was standing there I had the sudden sensation that I had just peed on myself. I tried to get a look at my backside & the other nurse said with alarm 'oh honey, you're bleeding"! Blood was everywhere, all the way past my knees. The nurses were freaked out, trying to shove my things at me to leave, but I stood there & tried to update them on what items I was working on so that they could finish it up. I grabbed my stuff, called Chris, & drove home. We repeated our trip to the hospital with my mama praying form work with her close friend for protection over my womb & son. Once in Maternal Observation I was put on the fetal monitor, labs were drawn, went for a sono & consult with the high risk perinatologist, & made to rest on my side for a couple of hours. Since I was in no pain I felt dumb for even being there, my nurse hushed me up telling me sternly that I was exactly where I needed to be & Chris confirmed that I was being way too casual about the situation. Surprisingly no one was able to find where the issue lay or the source of bleeding, so I was sent home on bedrest, again.
I have followed up with my doctor, it's difficult not knowing why I continue to have issues, I will see him once a week for biophysical profiles, non-stress tests, & an exam to very closely monitor the remainder of my pregnancy.
I am now categorized as full blown High Risk, I am not expected to make it to my due date, I have been placed on moderate bedrest with permission to run an errand & get back to my couch or bed quickly, we are required to be within 30 minutesof the hospital at all times, & of course: I'm not allowed to return to work. We are so grateful that Brit is still hanging out in my belly but can't help but to feel stressed by the situation. It's another chapter in my "this happens to someone else, not me".
We were not prepared to suddenly lose my paycheck, I know it will work out somehow. I notified my job today that I won't be returning for several months, I felt so guilty although I have no control over the circumstances, I hate to leave them hanging. Since it is a private practice & I have only been just over 60 days I don't qualify for FMLA or short term disability, this is even more frustrating since I could have had all of this from my last job that I had to leave only because my patient began attending school & the district won't allow a nurse to attend with their patient.
Overall, the news is good, I still have my baby boy exactly where he needs to be...

How We Made a Baby

***Not a TMI situation, I promise!***
As you know, after 3+ years of trying to conceive & have a successful pregnancy we were at our limit. Physically, my body couldn't handle the treatments & drugs any longer. Financially, we couldn't provide for more invasive treatments or fund an adoption. I was heartbroken because it meant I would live my life childless when I felt my purpose in life was to be a mother. 

So here we were in mid-March, I began taking my last ever dose of Clomid & tracking any signs of ovulation, once I had a positive result I made our final appointment with our fertility doctor. On April Fools, Chris went to the clinic an hour before I did, he did his portion of the appointment & returned to work. After I arrived alone I was put in an exam room & proceeded to have a meltdown once the doctor came in, Dr.K immediately brought me back down off the ledge. He reassured me that even though this was our last chance & attempt at a child via medical intervention, he KNEW that this was going to work & that I would walk out of that clinic pregnant. He did a quick ultrasound & saw plenty of eggs in my ovaries, then the performed my final IUI. As he walked out the door he gave me a hard core high five & encouraged me to relax as he was certain that I was pregnant. I laid on the exam table for 10 minutes to allow everything to settle & toward the ceiling I begged God that this would be the baby that made it into our arms. 

For the next two weeks I tried not to think of anything related to pregnancy, babies, or starting a period. I began having terrible back pain that wasn't normal for me but, I just knew I was going to start, still I decided to take a pregnancy test just in case. I'd barely finished the test & could already see two pink lines! I ran to Chris on the back porch & yelled at him to get off his phone. I stood out there in my panties, ugly crying, shaking, & freaking out as I told the man that I love that he would finally get to be a daddy. We both immediately had a sense that this time the baby was ours to keep. 

And that is how we conceived our sweet little babe with my husband miles away from me. All it took was 3 years of practice for Chris & myself, with Dr.Z, Dr.K, & Jesus' sweet mercy to create this baby, a miracle, oh what a miracle!

The view at the fertility clinic. Sexy!

An Extrodinary Gift

We are thrilled to announce the greatest gift will arrive just in time for Christmas 2013.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to those of you that have joined us in praying for this sweet little miracle.

I have prayed for this child and The Lord has granted me what I have asked of Him. 1 Samuel 1:27

I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born, says The Lord. Isaiah 66:9 (NCV)

Little Eyes

Friday night I was slumped on the couch after an exhausting work week.

I was just about to try to motivate myself to find some sort of housework to tackle when my sweet friend L.A.V.H, sent me this out of the blue:

Link to source

And to think,

when their little eyes opened, 

the first thing they saw was the 

face of Jesus.

The face of Jesus statement affected me so profoundly that I immediately began to cry, not sad tears but, tears of amazement that they missed the pain & trauma of this world & were born directly to eternal life into the arms of Jesus! His face is the first & only sight that those sweet little eyes peeked out at. He is their Father. 

WOW! 

I haven't ever thought of my babies in that sense before-I was mindblown, a friend metioned a long time ago that I had angel babies in heaven but, this was a whole new thought. A thought that is so simple & true that I cannot fathom why it had never occured to me before.

I still want to have those babies here with me right now but, what an amazing alternative.

 I completely believe that I will meet my children someday, that we will be able to communicate with one another, and that they will occupy bodies (or whatever) of the person they were intended to be. We will have a joyous reunion, until then I have an amzing quote to help me through the tough days when I feel incomplete without my sweet little babes.

A small victory

Today my patients baby cousin came over to visit. He had beautiful rolls of flesh for thighs, a soft fat belly, & 2 sweet dimples on his cheeks that snuck out with each giggle. 

For the first time in three years without a thought or self-psychoanalyzing I walked to a baby with a purpose & scooped him up. We bounced, cooed, laughed, had a bottle, & rocked to sleep. 

As he snuggled into me I felt completely accepted by such a sweet little stranger. I want to believe that in his soul he knew I needed a moment of healing, the purity of him in my arms was beautiful. It wasn't until I had to leave that I realized the hurdle I'd finally crossed, there was no anguish, pain, or  jealousy associated with a baby & I coexisting together in a room. It wasn't me against the baby, finally. 

As if you didn't know this post was coming...

Kim Kardashian is pregnant. 

Entertainment media has gone insane with: Kim K takes her fetus to the gym, Kim K's maternity style, Kim K-will she be a good mother? 

I couldn't be pissy-er about it. IT being the fact that I'm still childless, but "kimye" reproduces & the stupidity of our nations fascination with a chick who's famous for nothing but having a big ass. It's annoying .

Mostly though, I'm heartbroken for that innocent baby that will be born into a life of endless publicity & criticism. Will the baby even feel true love from its media whore parents, or will her team of nannies be her source of  all things parental?

Duh, obviously God has a plan for every single person & that nothing ever really makes sense to a simple person like me but, why does that sweet baby get gifted to those parents? Why is the plan for Chris & I  to be to suffer childlessly? (& her sister Khloe)

As I rant about others having babies, I also weep in joy for my soon to be new niece, for the kindness of a surrogate for Giuliana Rancic, & two of my best friends that are expecting. I'm so happy for them, but my wounded heart won't allow me to enjoy their bellies like I want, my defense is in distance & knowing as few details as possible. The Kardashian pregnancy is being force fed to us all by our media, I have no control over how much I see since its treated as breaking news on tv, facebook, & at the grocery checkout. Please, please, please make a fool of me Kim & Kanye, love that baby more than yourself(which is ALOT) & know how incredibly blessed you are.

The Darkness

I feel absent from my own life lately.

While there are some great things going on, I feel as if I'm surrounded by dark shadows.

I mean this not in my "normal" emotional, pessimistic way but, deeper. Darker. Some of it may be related to winter seasonal depression or junk I shall not talk about but, I know that the majority of it lays within our struggle to have a baby. December marks THREE years of infertility & miscarriage, December 31will be the day that I should have been giving birth to our second firstborn. Mourning babies lost has been a difficult experience, the moments of grief are unfulfilling, fleeting, & inconsistent. I want a gut wrenching sobfest to spew out at least some of the pain. Instead it sneaks up on me at the grocery store in the checkout line, during a toast to the newlyweds, as I perform my job duties, & of course, the stupid baby commercials on tv.
I think of my babies every single day but, I want to accomplish some sort of recovery from their loss & the ongoing inability to get/stay pregnant. I want to be able to dig my way out & carry on. But our options of "carrying on" such as IVF, adoption, & surrogacy all come with a high monetary price, & where will that money ever come from? Insurance only covers oral or injectible fertility medication, anything beyond that is our problem. We have hit a brick wall & I'm consumed by it, hence, I'm absent from the rest of my life. Knowing that we are meant to be parents but not having a sweet baby to love is like that itching feeling that you've forgotten something that makes it hard to focus on anything else & it'll drive you crazy until you finally figure it out. I am wholly consumed & in love with babies that I haven't met, I'm just not me without them.
Some of you may read this & think that we just need to move on, it's not meant to be, or that your "words of wisdom" will help us to to get over it. If this is you: please stop reading, go away, & never state your opinion to me. You haven't walked in these shoes. You'll hopefully never know the feeling of failure to give the man that you love a child that he also so desperately wants, the anger towards your own body, bitterness towards society for treating infertility like a dark secret, or fear that no one will pick you from others just like you to raise her baby. Instead, you can pray for this: fertility & strong uterus that bears a healthy baby, or a birth mother who desires that Chris & I give her baby a life in our arms & hearts.

Autopilot

There have been a few days have nearly destroyed me, I really wonder how I've made it through them.

The worst day was the one of the ultrasound appointment that confirmed our fears. We were waiting in the exam room to discuss everything with the doctor, the walls were paper thin. I heard him enter the room next to us & converse with his patient about her progressing pregnancy, then I heard the loud, strong heartbeat of her baby on the dopplar. I jammed my fingers in my ears to drown out the sound, but I could still hear it over my own sobs. My sweet husband draped his body over mine & held me as I lay on the exam table in the fetal position while all my pain spewed out. 

Less than one week later, my only coworker blurted out, "Aubrey, I'm pregnant". She commented on & inquired about her new pregnancy all day. I felt like I was bleeding out emotionally. She fretted about telling our boss, but he had to know since it would immediately affect her abilities to perform certain tasks. I approached him with her news for her, to be able to stop discussing it. He replied, "what about you?" with a cold tone, not caring about anything other than having someone be able to take his xrays for him. A week before I'd already told him I was pregnant & then a few days later that I might be micarrying, not once did he ever ask if I was okay, just "what about YOU?" to ensure that he wouldn't have to do the task himself.  There have been several other insensitive comments that he's made, he was supposed to be a dear friend to my husband. 

Sadly, it has taken me nearly two years to be able to see a baby or a pregnant woman without a surge of pain bubbling up, I hate that I'm close to being back to that point again. Thankfully though, this miscarriage has been both physically & emotionally eaisier on me than the last. It still hurts my heart just as much, but I feel more prepared for the pain than the last time.

But, everyday includes moments that make me think of my two little babies that I'll never know & my heart breaks a little more. I hope more than anything that my father Bo has one in each arm & shows them the love that wish I could.

Two Pink Lines

Two pink lines.

Surprised, cry, hyperventilate, quickly beg "dear God, let me keep this one".

Buy stuffed bunny & My Dad Loves Me book. 

Happy.

Daydream & plan our future together as a family of three.

Labwork. Phone call from Dr. Z, low progesterone, draw more blood.  

Phone call, further decreased progesterone.

Terrified.

Cramping, bleeding, back pain, tissue & blood clots.

Sonogram, "no longer any evidence of a viable pregnancy".

Numb.

Broken.

Again.

February.

Oh my word. This month has been so overwhelming.
We sold our house after the first showing(hallelujaurrr)but, doing so required me to pack, move, & close in 3 weeks-it was crazy. We were walking out of the house as the new owner was walking in, there was not a moment to spare.
We have found a fantastic house in FtW, unfortunately it is in probate & will take awhile to close, so in the meantime I am staying with my parents, our stuff sits in THREE storage units, and having quit my job to pack-I don't have much to do. Finally. I can do things like: give the dogs haircuts, request medical records, paint Mom's bedroom furniture. The free time is great, but while we wait for our new house we are on a single income. My job in FtW is sitting, waiting, I'm nervous & edgy.
This week also marks two years since I miscarried & have battled infertility. Two years. I had suddenly realized that I am that girl, the one that can't have babies. Everybody knows one, it's me, 1 in 4. That shit is hard to swallow.

I'm a Quitter.

I quit infertilty treatments. I haven't notified the doctor, I'm being rebellious.
We had one more last ditch effort IUI, and put so much hope into it. Maybe seeing "Aunt Flo" at the bowling alley was the last straw. (Are you kidding me?! Of all the places! Way to break it to me gently, uterus.) I couldn't even bear to tell my family that it was unsuccessful. My body has betrayed me and the drugs meant to help have tortured me for the last 10 months. I quit because I can't handle the heartbreak of being unsuccesful any longer. It has been 639 days since I miscarried, every single one of those days has been filled with thoughts my little one, the babies I want to know and how to get them here. 639 days of agony. It's like mourning a death-constantly, it never lets up.
We have some major changes up ahead, maybe I'll be ready to jump back into the game after them. In the meantime I will beg Him for a miracle or two.

If you build it, they will come.

I have always been a daydreamer. So in 2007 when I found THE wedding gown on ebay, brand new, and listed at $99, I was unable to resist. I bid & won, not caring that I was painfully single with no man in sight. I hung the gown in my closet & kept it a secret from most, but told a few girlfriends "if you build it, they will come" and we would laugh. Nine months later I met Chris, a year after that we were married and I wore my beautiful $99 bargain that fit like a glove.

 Fast foward to now, we are trying desperately to have a baby. My sister-in-laws have stopped having kids and have given us all of their outgrown items.(bouncer, clothes, bumbo, crib, etc.) We have set up the third bedroom with many of these items, choosing again to believe: If you build it, they will come. I chose a paint color that I like for either gender and decided to keep the furniture neutral. I will wait until there is a baby coming to choose fabrics and details, but will keep with a vintage theme no matter the gender. I couldn't keep my hands out of the paint can once I put the crib together, I love the crib but not the finish:

It took two weekends to paint the damn thing, and if you are concerned that the drop-rail cribs have been recalled, don't worry, we will fix it so that it doesn't drop.

This is a windowless room due to the fact that it is located on the neighbor's side of our patio home. I hate that it has no window.

Ignore the lamp, I'm thinking about making a burlap shade for it. The blue and cream chippy table is an antique store score from many years ago. I plan on changing diapers on top of it and stocking the basket with wipes, diapers, burp cloths, and anything else we will need at hand.

The nursery is in no way a baby shrine, it is a dose of encouragement every time I walk past. To me it would have been far sadder to leave the room empty and lean the crib against the wall in the garage. It reminds me daily to keep hoping and praying to become a mamma very soon.

INfertile Myrtle

Miscarriage.
Subchorionic hemorrhage.
Amenorrhea.
Septate uterus.
Anovulation.
Failed IUI.
Surgery, surgery, surgery.
Etcetera.
Picture this: I am the little girl that insisted that my baby doll, Natalie, be included in family pictures at Christmas time and famously "gave birth" to the pillow under my nightgown at the age of 10, for my grandparents to see(envision Grandma Ruth's jaw hitting the floor), and have aspired since toddlerhood to have a career as a stay-at-home-mom.  So yesterday, as I sat in waiting room full of baby bellies, I tried to choke back my pain as I awaited yet another fertility injection. Those poor preggo's appeared a bit uncomfortable and stared at the floor as I choked on tears & attempted to tolerate the former coworker who innocently chose the WORST EVER go-to phrases intended to console an infertile(in the future I'll post a list of these things).
The last year and a half+ has been hell, reproductively speaking, following my February 2010 miscarriage. I have taken more ovulation & pregnancy tests than I can count and I could pee on a stick blindfolded. For the last eight months I have taken Clomid, the last three months: Repronex, and an injection of Profase just once. Internal sonograms and HSG's are a piece of cake, Progesterone  suppositories AKA "uterine wallpaper", are my constant internal companion . Ask me what day it is, and I'll spout off my cycle day long before I realize you meant Wednesday.
But, I suddenly need to take a break from infertility treatments, I don't know if I can do this anymore. It's been eight months of a constant-heinous headache, roller coaster emotions like sorrow and hopelessness, abdominal discomfort, nausea, and welcome to the new guy: anger.
I know that I can't expect the world around me to cater to my pain, and I know it's gotten to the point of ridiculious when I think that Pampers commercials were intentionally filmed and broadcast to twist the knife in my heart/uterus. I want to punch infertility in the face for what it's doing to me. I want to feel normal again & be excited for the baby mama's. I want to be able to hold my cousins newborn for more than 5 seconds without agony and making it awkward to be around. But most of all, I just want my baby.
P.S. Thank you to those of you  that have showered us with love, encouragement, and prayers. We are so grateful.